


Words On The Written Page

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anger, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hera Syndulla Needs A Hug, Hurt Hera Syndulla, Panic Attacks, Protective Kanan Jarrus, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Twi'leks (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: There's a glimmer of hope in the Rebellion's eye when they get their hands on Admiral Thrawn's personal journal. They expect a war plan, instead they get the Admiral's innermost thoughts on Hera Syndulla. It's nothing good.
Relationships: Hera Syndulla/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Kudos: 30





	Words On The Written Page

**Author's Note:**

> eep thrawn messing with hera is so interesting, especially when her jedi gets involved

It’s a miracle they managed to swipe anything apparently, let alone something from Grand Admiral Thrawn’s office of all places. But there on the table is the man’s personal notebook, packed almost over to cover, waiting to be read. 

Hera watches as Bail flips through the pages, his brow creased, and with how he shuts the book with an anger that borders on fatigue they all know the contents must be daunting. In fact the other council members look on, ire crawling up their spines, never having seen the man so uncomposed.

Debauched by a simple construction of words. Entirely forgetting this was Grand Admiral Thrawn's words, and he could win a war with those alone, without the help of his missiles or bionic men.

Mon Mothma, unable to take it any longer, reaches out to take it, but the Aldaranian doesn’t let her. His hand swamps the cover before he hesitantly slides it in front of the twi’lek general, not even looking at her while appearing seconds away from pulling it back into his grasp. Spare her from the horror written within two thick strips of leather. 

Hera gracefully pries the journal out from under his fingertips, wondering briefly if she really wanted to, especially since he didn’t hand it to anyone but her and he had struggled to do even that.

Hera’s world caves around her, if the meeting is still proceeding she doesn’t know, not as she cracks open the spine and let’s her emerald eyes rake over the fanciful yet precise words jotted down less than idly from her subsequent rival.

They had hoped to come across his strategies for war, his innerworkings, his next step. What is written in these pages contains those things, but they all pertain to her. 

He’s torn apart her family tree, broken down even the smallest of things that anyone who knew her might know, and almost every person she’s had significant contact with since the day she was born. All of it written in his scrawl.

Except for everything he did know, there were an additional ten things he did not, and with how hard his pen sunk into the pages he knew it. Ingrained it, counted it as a failure in the places that he didn’t already have a plan to extract the information he was sure he would get. All the plans written between the lines were not for this war but for her. 

He’d elevated her from the rest, donned her as an equal, an equal he wanted to see squalor at his feet. _Forever._

It was nothing but vile, and the general’s face is carefully blank as she brushes over the paragraphs and rants that are more debilitating than an aggressive slaver breaking in their newest product.

Her chest pangs and she’s not sure she’s even breathing, by the time the meeting adjourns she’s almost in a trace. Her numbness receding.

Muddled emotions swarmed in her gut. She yearns for her Jedi. Kanan, the only one she trusts enough to help wash these feelings away, the only one who could possibly make her feel safe again.

The twi’lek’s arms are protectively wrapped around herself as she walks up the ramp, not even remembering the walk it took her to get there or even that she’d pocketed that damn journal in her suit. 

Her specters look to her expectantly, and for once she doesn’t care about any of her normal reservations. Kanan’s name is a mantra in her head.

_ Kanan. Kanan. Kanan _ .

The journal is burning a hole through her pocket and when she comes in close to her Jedi, the distance is sparse even for them.

“Do you and Ezra have any training planned tonight?” Hera doesn’t know how the words even managed to pass up through her garrotted throat. 

“Nothing tha-“ Her lips are on his before he could get the rest of his sentence out, having already answered enough for her.  His face blooms with blush, confused but not against the development as he brackets her against him.

Kanan’s sightless eyes try to gaze down at her as she pulls apart, slipping out of his arms like water before her fingers intertwine with his own.

“Come lay with me then?” It’s not a command, it’s nothing close which he finds unusual, it’s a soft rasped question that emanates the feeling that she’s already determined he just might actually say no.

He can’t have her thinking that because there will never be a time he’d willingly say no unless the world was ending. And he’s not even sure if he would then.

Instinctually, needily, his hand tightens around her own, following her without a second thought. Uncaring of how the kids are watching them with varying emotions, he follows because as always he is helpless not to.

Her cabin door hisses behind them, her force signature is off, labored. There is no lust or urgency between them as she helps him out of his tunic. Hera shudders, leaning into his touch and away from it all at once as he helps her out of her flight suit.

Her unease where there is normally comfort sets his teeth on edge, his jaw twitching in a struggle to stay relaxed as they huddled together on her cot.

“I’m assuming the meeting didn’t go well,” 

She shakes her head against his sternum, brain still racking. Had the journal been a farce? Something left behind deliberately to mess with her? She couldn’t- _ wouldn’t _ put it past him. And if it had been, it’d worked, she could barely stomach reading the damn thing, let alone go through those things if he ever managed to make them happen.

“He scares me,” the captain admits, feeling like a little girl again, especially as she buries her face into his heat in hopes it would do something to alleviate the cold feeling in her chest. Kanan realizes this quickly, his breath shuttering at the admittance, but he plays his role as her knight dutifully.

Shifting lightly, boring a little more of his weight on her in a way that’s not oppressive but protective, Kanan tapped into the force. He knows she has the journal, felt it in her pocket as he helped rid her of her flight suit, and the fact he can’t read what’s been written on those pages personally insults him.

If his plans were enough to frighten Hera, the effect it’d have on the war- 

“It was all about me,” she whimpers, breaking him from his thoughts, “He didn’t write about the war, he wrote about me Kanan,” frightened fury wretches from her as she weeps into his shoulder.

He fights the instinct to grab that damn journal and flip through it knowing it will give him nothing, and he’s angry. More so than he thinks he’s ever been.

“I won’t let-”

“It’s not about  _ let _ , he doesn’t want to let us- _ me _ do anything unless it’s a direct result of everything he’s done to break us. Kanan I’ve heard so many rancid, horrid things, and it doesn’t even begin to compare to what's written in those pages,”

Kanan is left with little to do but listen, she’s not asking for his assurances, too traumatized at the moment to even believe them. He presses chaste kisses to her night cap, his calloused fingers sweeping the tears off her cheeks. They burn his skin like acid.

The minute she was asleep, deep enough that she wouldn’t notice his absence, Chopper would be translating that journal cover to cover. 

The twi’lek doesn’t fall asleep peacefully, her brain refusing the force suggestions he was sending her way. Her body tense even under his gentle hands, she’s still crying when sleep takes her and Kanan has never felt such pain, from her or himself.

* * *

Chopper had never been this...tame. The volatile droid is still, not waving around weapons, warbling insults, or committing acts of destruction. It simply translates every single page into a file that Kanan could listen to without a word edgewise.

When it’s all said and done, Chopper peels off to do god knows what and for once Kanan doesn’t feel the need to intervene. Instead he locks himself in his cabin and listens to the words on the written page.

He doesn’t make it ten minutes in without having to pause, and even then his finger had been poised over the button a minute in.

Kanan loves Hera, he knows love is not the problem but the feelings of possession that may follow it. And for a moment with the rage filling his gut he fears that possession is what makes his blood boil, but no that can't be it.

He’s angry because Hera is vibrant, beautiful, strong, and unrelenting. And just the thought of someone, that monster, doing these things. Breaking her so thoroughly and completely that she would end up like all his other trinkets is maddening.

It’s no fate for her, and he refuses to let it come to be. She may not believe that at the moment, that was alright, she trusted him enough that this lapse is nothing to him. She’s afraid and he wants to rectify that. 

And he will.

Maybe even the next time he happened to come face to face with the Chiss. 

* * *

The captain combed her fingers through her Jedi’s hair, sitting safely in his lap in the depths of her cabin. Kanan’s head rested against her shoulder, arms wound tightly around her waist.

Promises pressing to her skin that he could feel she was starting to believe.

“When this is all over, where do you wanna go my love?” it’s a soft question, one he didn’t think he’d ever hear her ask, especially without prompting. The Jedi lifts his face, meeting her eyes with his unseeing ones, always able to find her.

“Wherever you’ll be,”

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


End file.
